A Time To Turn Back
by Private I
Summary: What if Draco ended up in the past, in the body of Sirius Black when he was a fifth year? What if a 5th year Sirius was transported into the future in the form of Draco Malfoy? Can they ever go back...and do they even want to return?
1. Foreign Wake-Up Calls

A Time to Turn Back  
  
  
  
Summary: What if Draco ended up in the past, in the body of Sirius Black when he was in fifth year at Hogwarts? What if a 5th year Sirius was transported in the future into the form of Draco Malfoy? What if Sirius found out that he was going to spend 13 long years in Azbakazan, that his best friend and his wife would be murdered, and one of his closest friends would betray him? What if Draco started to have feelings for the mother of his most hated enemy? Can they ever go back…and do they even want to return?  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine I'd write all the books about Draco Malfoy, but then it wouldn't be a Harry Potter series. But alas, I fall short of the necessary requirements, so the world has to read about the world centering around Harry Potter, not Draco's. Oh, well.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Foreign Wake-Up Calls  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Draco blinked at the sunlight filtering in from a window above his head. He rolled over, so his face was buried in a pillow, groaning. His head ached, like he'd been hit by a house. Or a hex.  
  
  
  
"You'd better get up if you don't want to be late for breakfast."  
  
  
  
"I'm getting up," snapped Draco, but he didn't move. Until someone snatched the blankets off the bed.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to do that." He turned over on his back to see the person who had so rudely disturbed his beauty sleep.  
  
  
  
The person standing there was definitely not Crabbe. Or Goyle.  
  
  
  
He looked an awful lot like Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
Draco's mind went into double time. He jumped out of his bed, snatching up a wand, which definitely was not his, but pointed it directly at Harry. "Potter," he stated through gritted teeth, "what the hell are you doing here?"  
  
  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't know…maybe because this is my dormitory!" He gestured to a bed behind him.  
  
  
  
For the first time Draco realized that he was not longer in the Slytherin Dormitories. The floors weren't stone. They were wood. The walls were bright. The windows plentiful. Gryffndor Dorms. How could he have gotten into Gryffndor dorms?  
  
  
  
"Well it looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."  
  
  
  
Draco whirled around to see a thin boy standing next to a plump one. The thin boy was bale with scraggly blond hair. The plump one had chubby cheeks and brown hair that he had attempted to comb, but hadn't done a very good job.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, what's with you? You've been so jumpy lately!" exclaimed the plump boy, gesturing towards Draco who was trying desperately to draw names to the faces of these Gryffndor boys. It definitely wasn't Neville standing before him. Neville would have been cowering behind Weasley and Potter. Not openly questioning him.  
  
  
  
"Oh, he's just in a bad mood now that I'm captain of the Quidditch team." Draco turned back to look at a very triumphant Harry, who gave him a mock grin before tossing his black hair back and for a split second….giving Draco a clear view of his forehead.  
  
  
  
"What happened to your scar?" asked Draco. The forehead was blemish-less; not a scratch tarnished it.  
  
  
  
"Oh that one you give me the other day?" Harry pulled up the sleeve of his robes to reveal a thin jagged line running up his arm. "See it's still there."  
  
  
  
Draco's eyes were darting back and forth between Harry's forehead and his arm. He swallowed hard. That's when the door of the dorm swung open to reveal an agitated girl.  
  
  
  
"Breakfast is going to be over if you guys don't hurry up!" she snapped, folding her arms.  
  
  
  
"You really shouldn't come barging in like that," stated Harry, smiling at the redhead. "What if we were changing?"  
  
  
  
She shrugged. "Well that would have been your problem, not mine." She turned to Draco. "You're not even dressed yet!"  
  
  
  
But Draco wasn't listening. His eyes were focused on a mirror hung over a dresser. He could see the reflections of the redhead, of Harry, of the plump boy, and of the shaggy blond one. But his…wasn't there. Draco stepped towards the mirror until he was face to face with it. The four companions were staring at him from behind with puzzlement.  
  
  
  
The reflection he was looking at had blond hair, like his, although it was not silvery, but dark filled with hightlights from the sun. His pale face had been replaced with a tanned one with a few freckles left over from the summer sprinkled over his nose. And his eyes were no longer gray, but a bright shade of blue.  
  
  
  
Draco spun away from the reflection. "What happened to me?"  
  
  
  
Harry just laughed. "Really, Sirius, calm down. We all know you're not a morning person."  
  
  
  
Sirius.  
  
  
  
Sirius.  
  
  
  
He was in another person's body. But what was this…some sort of alternate universe where he was friends with Harry Potter? And Potter didn't even have his famed scar? No scar…Draco glanced at the boy who was trying to herd the redhead out of the room. "Oh, leave will you? We'll meet you at breakfast!"  
  
  
  
As Harry shut the door practically in the girl's face, he whirled around, and Draco noticed something very odd. Harry's eyes were not green. Not even a flicker of the shade.  
  
  
  
They were dark brown.  
  
  
  
"Sirius, what's wrong? You look pale…are you feeling okay?" Draco backed up against the wall. The trio approached him cautiously. "Padfoot?"  
  
  
  
Draco glanced to his right. There sitting on a night table was a little calendar. October 8. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Well at least it was the correct date. Then his eyes settled on four numbers written to the right. 1975.  
  
  
  
Malfoys don't faint, or pass out. Whatever made Draco close his eyes and fall into a pit of blackness must have been from lack of sleep, or that headache that still pounded his cerebellum.  
  
  
  
****************************************  
  
  
  
Sirius had slid out of bed long ago, had grabbed some robes, and in the morning daze he was always in, he had headed mindlessly to the showers, as usual trusting his own instinct to guide him. But he had forgotten the password, and it wasn't until a bulky boy informed him that it was Dragon's Tooth that the Knight blocking the passage saluted him before somersaulting out of the way.  
  
  
  
Sirius stepped in, casting aside his clothes to wake-up with a refreshing hot shower. After the water streamed down on him for a full 15 minutes (he'd always been one for long showers) he was able to think straight and see everything in focus. He had never been a morning person.  
  
  
  
'That's funny…they must have remodeled the showers. Hmmm…I wonder how they could redo them in a whole day.' Thinking that it had to be done with magic, he absent-mindedly reached for a soap bar and began scrubbing away. It didn't take long for the soap to slip out of his hands and for him to nearly fall on his face from almost sliding on it.  
  
  
  
Sirius stared in horror at his pale arms. What had happened to that summer's tan he had worked so hard on just a month ago? Tans don't disappear into thin air…do they?  
  
  
  
And his leg didn't have that scar from when he and James had been fighting the other day, as Prongs and Padfoot of course. Instead that was a small burn on his right arm that he swore wasn't there yesterday.  
  
  
  
With an increased terror, Sirius turned to switch off the faucets, but at first gawked at their snake shape. He snatched up his towel and leaped out of the shower. Thankfully, no one else was in the bathrooms.  
  
  
  
He stepped up to the fogged mirror, reaching out with a trembling (and very pale, he noted with disgust) hand, to wipe away the condensation.  
  
  
  
Gray.  
  
  
  
That's the first thing he noticed. Gray eyes. And blond hair. But it wasn't his blond hair. It was too light and silvery. He hadn't had those prominent cheekbones yesterday. And he had to be at least a full three inches shorter.  
  
  
  
Oh, Merlin. He was shrinking. Maybe it was some sort of mixed up age potion. He was getting younger. But that didn't make sense either. He had never in his entire life had gray eyes. Not even when he was a baby.  
  
  
  
"What's going on?" he breathed, staring at his reflection. But no one answered him. Gray eyes simply stared ominously back. Who was this person he was looking at? It reminded him, in a vaguely familiar way of…but he shook away the thought.  
  
  
  
Sirius was so lost in thought that he didn't see the person approaching him from behind in the mirror where droplets of water dripped down, ruining the circle of visibility his hand had created. It wasn't until he felt two arms snake around his waist that he realized he had lost his privacy in the secluded bathroom.  
  
  
  
He twirled around so he was face to face with a blond girl he didn't recognize donned in silk pajamas, but she seemed to know him…and rather well. Sirius found himself involuntarily tightening his grip on the towel.  
  
  
  
"Hey…you're up early." She flashed him a smile, showing off a set of white, pearly teeth before giving him a once over, mildly confused. "Crabbe said he saw you wandering into the bathrooms and you never take showers in the morning…is anything wrong?"  
  
  
  
"I don't take showers in the morning!" Sirius spoke merely out of impulse. How could a person live without a proper shower to start the day off with?  
  
  
  
The girl tossed her blond hair over her shoulder. "Yea…you say it's bad for your hair. Some shit about how if you take it at night, it allows all the proper nutrients and oils to replenish themselves, or-" She stopped to step closer to him (if that was possible).  
  
  
  
"Draco…" she began slowly, (Draco- what kind of name is that? thought Sirius), "are you sure you're okay? It isn't-" She raised a well-plucked eyebrow at him expectantly.  
  
  
  
"Isn't what?"  
  
  
  
"You know what I'm talking about," muttered the girl angrily, shoving him away at his dumb-founded expression. Sirius nearly lost his grip on the towel. She noticed this with a sly smile, her anger forgotten. "Oh, loosen up, will you? I like it when you show some skin."  
  
  
  
Sirius glanced up and allowed an artful smile to flicker across his face.  
  
  
  
"Oh, do you?" asked Sirius his old charm returning with his confidence as he allowed himself to forgot his trauma of being in another person's body to exploit the resources available, namely a blond donned in a pair of flimsy pajamas.  
  
  
  
She giggled, a very high-pitched, girly giggle before proceeding to encircle her arms around his neck. And before Sirius could open his mouth to utter some witty remark, she was kissing him. And not some quick peck on the lips, she must've spent some time in France because she seemed to have mastered their style for displays of affection awfully well.  
  
  
  
He nearly dropped his towel…again.  
  
  
  
But someone very rudely disrupted them by entering the bathroom. Someone very tall, with dark, greasy hair, all too familiar beadle eyes, sallow skin, and a hooked nose.  
  
  
  
For a third time it took all of Sirius's will power to clutch desperately to the towel.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Parkinson, I hate to intrude some 4th year claimed one of the showers was bewitched and Filch has his hands full with Peeves's new Stink Bombs, but if I'm not mistaken breakfast will begin in less than 5 minutes time.  
  
  
  
The girl, Parkinson, just grinned at the tall man. "Okay, Professor Snape, we'll see you in Potions!" The teacher just waved her off.  
  
  
  
Snape…older…taller…  
  
  
  
It had to be him. No one could coincidentally have all those trademark features, could they? It was impossible unless…  
  
  
  
"What's today's date?" he asked to Parkinson who was making her way out of the bathrooms.  
  
  
  
"October 8th" The door had nearly closed when she stuck her head back in to add: "1994."  
  
  
  
1994.  
  
  
  
The future…he was in the future with his worst enemy as his teacher. 20 years into the future. He had to find someone who'd understand.  
  
  
  
Definitely not Snape. Nor that slutty blond, Parkinson. She'd probably going into hysteria that her beau, Draco was gone.  
  
  
  
James Potter. He'd be somewhere here in the future. Grant it, he'd be 35 by now. But he'd be here…and if anyone of his friends would understand what had happened and be able to help, it was him. Now it was just the matter of finding him…and getting dressed. Sirius thought, glancing down at the towel he was still in.  
  
  
  
~La fin.  
  
Sirius is going to have a few surprises in store for him, as is Draco…and don't worry; Pansy isn't going to be in this story much.  
  
I'd think it'd be so fine  
  
If you just took your time,  
  
To share an opinion or two  
  
Your very own point of view  
  
I'd forever be in debt  
  
To those who are adept  
  
At writing a review for me  
  
Really I'm not too picky,  
  
Flame, an insult, whatever you think best  
  
I could care less  
  
So for those honorable few  
  
Who will take the time to review  
  
I shall salute you.  
  
*salutes*  
  
(Yes…I do have a brother in the army. And yes I can't write a rhythmic poem to save my life. Sorry you had to read that.) 


	2. Sirius's Potter Dilemma

A Time to Turn Back  
  
  
  
For those too impatient to suffer through my nonsense ranting, feel free to scroll down.  
  
A/N: I won't bother falling over myself apologizing for how late this came, you probably don't want o hear it. To tell you the truth I had the entire chapter written only three days after I posted the first one. Really, I did. But I showed it to my sister and she said that one scene was disgusting and that I should edit it out. It was kinda discouraging, so I put off editing for a couple of weeks. I decided to keep the scene anyway…you'll know which one it is. I hope that future updates will be at weekly or at the most bimonthly, not triweekly.  
  
To everyone who very kindly pointed out that Sirius Black had black hair….thanks and a salute to you… I kinda knew that, but for some absurd inexplicable reason I wrote him with blond hair (mixed him with Remus or something) …I'll just go with Emily's very awesome suggestion that he dyed it? M'kay? I apologize to anyone who's going to have nervous break down cuz his hair'll be dyed blond instead of black.  
  
One last thing- there's a challenge at the end- just to see if anyone knows a bit of history related to Harry Potter (and the Death Eaters).  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine I'd release the 5th book now and not wait until the summer for whatever 'marketing reasons.' But, alas, it's JKR's, and 'tis not my decision to make.  
  
  
  
To Tim who's not gay, but gets manicures anyway, and lets his girlfriend talk him into painting his fingernails green and red for the holidays only to be stopped by security in an airport twice, proving that being male with painted fingernails makes you a suspicious character, and a possible terrorist. This chapter is for you, bro.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Sirius's Potter Dilemma  
  
  
  
  
  
The first thing Draco saw when he opened his eyes was not the white colors of the Hospital Wing, not the whitewashed walls, or hospital sheets. He saw green.  
  
  
  
Sitting up immediately, thinking that it was Harry Potter's green eyes, which would most certainly mean that he was back to own his time.  
  
  
  
Back to 1994.  
  
  
  
What a strange dream, he thought, rubbing his temples, wondering why Harry Potter would be in the Hospital Wing in the first place. Probably some Dementors scared him off his broomstick.  
  
  
  
But as his blurred vision came into focus, he could see that although the bright gleam of green that was the defining pigment for Harry Potter's eyes, was still shining, it was not a scar-faced boy, but a redhead girl who stared down at him.  
  
  
  
"Sirius, are you okay?" she asked, leaning towards him from her seat. Draco just fell back on the bed moaning.  
  
  
  
"No, no…"  
  
  
  
"Well I thought it was rather nice of us to rotate staying with you after you fainted-"  
  
  
  
"I didn't faint!"  
  
  
  
"Yes you did. James told me your eyes just rolled up and you collapsed. If that's not fainting I don't know what is!"  
  
  
  
"I just wanted to…take a nap, I hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep." Draco paused, his eyes widening. "James? James who?"  
  
  
  
Now the girl was giving him a strange look. She propped her chin up with her hands before stating: "Were some brain cells knocked out of you that you, Sirius Black, don't know what you're best friend's proper name is and- "  
  
  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
  
  
Draco leapt out of bed, rushing to the mirror. He hadn't realized it this morning, but the blond hair, was not real…  
  
  
  
He fingered the roots, touching the faint remnants of a coarse, black shade…it was dyed.  
  
  
  
Black hair. Sirius Black.  
  
  
  
Sirius Black. He was in the body of a mass murderer. Of a crazed lunatic. Of a genius who had discovered how to -  
  
  
  
"Okay…what is wrong with you? You're giving me the creeps."  
  
  
  
Draco could see the redhead's reflection in the mirror, her expression an undecided mixture of puzzlement and anxiety. He lowered his head to study his hands.  
  
  
  
The same hands that held such power to kill 12 Muggles and a wizard with one blow. To be the only wizard to escape from the clutches of Azkaban….alive.  
  
  
  
"Sirius?" The redhead stepped towards him. "Are you sure you're not obsessive compulsive or anything about mirrors?"  
  
  
  
Draco was trying not to shake, while slowly raising the blue eyes that were not his to stare at his and the girl's reflection in the vanity mirror of the Hospital Wing.  
  
  
  
To tell or not tell.  
  
  
  
Now, that was the question. To tell the redhead that he wasn't Sirius Black, that he was Draco Malfoy…that he was from the future.  
  
  
  
He opened his mouth, ready to spill out the truth, ready to admit that he'd been caught up in some twisted Polyjuice/Time Turner accident, ready to be sent to Dumbledore to be dealt with properly.  
  
  
  
But something made Draco shut his mouth so fast that he bit his tongue before the words slipped out.  
  
  
  
Something he didn't understand, but kept ringing in his ears, screaming that the truth would only cause panic, that he could figure out how to get back on his own.  
  
  
  
Living someone else's life for a short while could be fun, he reflected, noticing how much taller he was for the first time… (even in a fake blond's and an incriminated wizard's body)…and what was the worst that could happen?  
  
  
  
"I'm just a little…dizzy."  
  
  
  
The redhead's reflection grinned at him. "Well that's understandable since you did knock your head when you fainted."  
  
  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you? I didn't faint!" Draco whirled around to face her.  
  
  
  
She just arched an eyebrow. "Now, aren't we turning into Mr. Macho?"  
  
  
  
Draco opened his mouth to retort when the door to the Hospital Wing swung open and in stampeded the Harry Look-alike, the plump boy, and the shaggy blond one.  
  
  
  
"Oh, good you're up," stated the shaggy blond.  
  
  
  
"Lucky wizard got to miss History of Magic." The plumb boy clutched his throat and made a gagging sound. "That has to be the most boring class ever- who wants to learn about history anyway? It already happened, it's over and done with, so why do we need to know it?"  
  
  
  
"Maybe because if you understand history, you'll understand the events of present day better."  
  
  
  
The almost clone of Harry scoffed, "Oh, please, Lil, when will the dates of those Goblin Wars ever be of any use?"  
  
  
  
"When history repeats itself?" offered Draco. The three boys gave him a peculiar glance, while the redhead, Lil, just beamed.  
  
  
  
"See, Sirius, agrees with me!"  
  
  
  
"And I agree that all of you should go to class since Mr. Black has recovered and stop taking up space in the Hospital Wing!"  
  
  
  
Five heads spun towards a very infuriated (and much younger noted Draco) Madame Pomefry. Five sets of legs dodged out of the Infirmary before the Medical Witch could drown them with any more of her wrath.  
  
  
  
"Sheesh, she needs to take a chill pill," muttered the blond.  
  
  
  
The redhead glanced at her watch. "We're going to be late for Potions, you prats!" She darted off down the hall towards the dungeons.  
  
  
  
The Potter twin rolled his dark brown eyes. "You'd think she was actually looking forward to Double Potions with Slytherins."  
  
  
  
"Slytherins," repeated the plump boy, saying the name as if it were something revolting he had stepped in. Draco had to bite his tongue hard to keep from retorting.  
  
  
  
Stupid, arrogant, stuck-up, Gryffndors.  
  
  
  
*************************  
  
  
  
Sirius made his way down the corridors towards the Great Hall. He stopped on the occasion to admire a few paintings that had been hung, and how several sets of drapes had been replaced. He didn't know about the second to last step of the stairway leading into the Hall and that it had begun a habit several years ago of disappearing, trying to catch unsuspecting 1st years.  
  
  
  
As a result (quite to the step's surprise and glee) Sirius went tumbling down, tripping as he tried to save himself from crashing into the hole in the stairway. Consequently, he landed on a poor boy who squealed with fright.  
  
  
  
Snatching himself up quickly, Sirius offered a hand to him.  
  
  
  
The boy refused it, jumping to his feet, watching him with very wide, very scared eyes. "S-s-sorry, Malfoy."  
  
  
  
"Oh, it's alright…I didn't see you. It's my fault really. You're not hurt, are you?"  
  
  
  
The boy didn't answer… his face devoid of any color, he just backed slowly away before darting into the Great Hall.  
  
  
  
Sirius shrugged. What a weird boy.  
  
  
  
He could hear the sounds of other students from down the corridors making their way into the Hall. He pushed through the forming crowd, stumbling into the large room, noting how overcrowded Hogwarts had become over the years. By instinct he headed towards the Gryffndor table, nearly filled already.  
  
  
  
Sirius ignored the scowls he was receiving as his eyes settled on an all too familiar black haired boy, munching contently on a blueberry muffin.  
  
  
  
"James!"  
  
  
  
Sirius pounced upon his best friend, enveloping him into an embrace…a form of affection he had never reserved for his friend.  
  
  
  
But he couldn't help it…he was not alone- James was there too…somehow- they could figure this out together…they-  
  
  
  
"-What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
  
  
The boy snatched himself away, shoving Sirius off and drawing his wand all in a quick, defensive movement.  
  
  
  
Sirius straightened his shoulders, overwhelmed by the leering green that surrounded him, and the foreign object that pierced his friend's fair skin.  
  
  
  
He reached forward, unaware of the gawking Gryffndors, to brush back the dark bangs. They were unmistakably James's- such awful, messy, black hair.  
  
  
  
Sirius's lips parted as he breathed: "What happened?"  
  
  
  
James jerked his forehead back, flinching at his touch when a towering flamehead appeared at his side. "You know very well what happened you Slytherin-"  
  
  
  
"James-"  
  
  
  
"Stop saying that name!"  
  
  
  
"What-"  
  
  
  
"I guess you've fallen off you broomstick one too many times, Malfoy," stated a bushy brown haired girl in a snotty voice standing on the opposite side of James with her arms folded stubbornly. "That you can't even remember who Harry Potter is!"  
  
  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
Potter.  
  
  
  
Harry.  
  
  
  
Was he-  
  
  
  
Before Sirius could retort, the brown haired girl stated she had suddenly lost her appetite and dragged the two boys off.  
  
  
  
It wasn't until two carrot tops catapulted some oatmeal onto his robes was Sirius able to think properly.  
  
  
  
"Dray- cie," called a redhead in a high falsetto.  
  
  
  
"No, it's more like Dracy-cooo!" stated his clone.  
  
  
  
Sirius brushed off the oatmeal before disappearing into the halls, (his appetite had vanished as well) working out what had exactly happened with Mr. Green Eyes.  
  
  
  
***********************  
  
  
  
Draco's mind worked furiously while he stared at the backs of his companions. If he was in the body of Sirius Black in 1975 that would most certainly mean the identities of his companions would have to be-  
  
  
  
"Mmph."  
  
  
  
A hand covered Draco's mouth and someone shoved him into the stone wall of the Dungeon's corridors, but before impact the wall evaporated, allowing Draco to plunge head-first into a dimly lit room.  
  
  
  
"What was that for?" He dusted himself off to face his 'kidnapper.'  
  
  
  
In the light from a few burning candles, floating mid-air Draco could make out the lines of a girl giving him a very sultry look. The familiarity of her was unmistakable. Her angelic face, which exaggerated by the candlelight, spurred faint reminders, but of who…Draco was unsure.  
  
  
  
"I missed you this morning," pouted the girl. "I heard you were in the Hospital Wing."  
  
  
  
"Hmmm." Draco glanced around the room, taking in the cushioned chairs, layered in a carpet of dust, and a painting of a unicorn peacefully drinking out of a glimmering pool, oblivious to the two intruders.  
  
  
  
A hidden room.  
  
  
  
She stepped forward, taking his hands. "You have such nice hands."  
  
  
  
"I get manicures."  
  
  
  
"Since when did Sirius Black get manicures?"  
  
  
  
"When Sirius Black though it was best to break his awful habit of biting his fingernails."  
  
  
  
"Since when did Sirius Black start speaking in third person? It makes you sound like an egoist."  
  
  
  
"I'm not an egoist- that's a person with poor taste, more interested in themselves than in me."  
  
  
  
She giggled, venturing closer, her hands still clasped over his. "You know I just used that compliment about your hands as an excuse to touch you."  
  
  
  
Draco recoiled, but the girl didn't seem to notice.  
  
  
  
"I was thinking about those plans we've been making."  
  
  
  
"What plans?"  
  
  
  
"You know-"  
  
  
  
"I forgot."  
  
  
  
"I was thinking about the Sirius Junior suggestions. I haven't exactly warmed up to the idea, so don't go get your hopes up."  
  
  
  
"Sirius Jr.?"  
  
  
  
Who was this ridiculous girl who was so intent on making marriage plans? Not just marriage plans, but naming future children at age 15? He thought about telling her that Sirius would never have any children,…  
  
  
  
But deciding that if he wanted to keep his cover as Sirius Black, he'd better start acting more like Sirius, less people become suspicious.  
  
  
  
Now what would Sirius Black do if he was in a dimly lit room with a girl who was smiling at him like he was the greatest person to ever walk on the face of the earth?  
  
  
  
Now what would a typical mass murder do?  
  
  
  
Now what would your average traitor do?  
  
  
  
No…he wasn't asking himself the right questions.  
  
  
  
What would a typical 15-year-old boy do?  
  
  
  
Draco leaned down (mentally rejoicing the tall body he now inhabited) kissing the girl on the bridge of her nose. Well- he hadn't exactly counted on the height difference to be that inhibiting.  
  
  
  
But the girl just grinned, raising her chin and forcing herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him properly.  
  
  
  
The sensation was so familiar that it bewildered Draco beyond belief. But it wasn't like kissing Pansy….  
  
  
  
He found himself pulling her towards one of the cushioned loveseats, and she went willingly, allowing herself to be pushed down on her back, as Draco propped himself up with his elbows, hoping that he wasn't crushing her.  
  
  
  
A strange, almost disembodied voice in his head said that he should be in Potions right now, but he ignored it.  
  
  
  
Instead, Draco pulled his head back to kiss her neck, as she breathed his name. It wasn't until she said it a second time that he realized what she had done.  
  
  
  
"Draco."  
  
  
  
"What?" He jerked his head up, confused. She couldn't know…she wouldn't…  
  
  
  
"I'd like to name one Draco. It's so…mysterious and powerful. It's Latin for dragon, you know."  
  
  
  
"I do know," answered Draco, or rather choked.  
  
  
  
"I think Draco should take precedence over Sirius Jr. Or at least if he has my blond hair he should be called Draco."  
  
  
  
Without any evidence of emotion on his face, Draco jumped off the small couch, walked over to a small trash can and promptly threw up.  
  
  
  
The girl sat up. "Oh, honestly! It's not that bad of a name is it, Sirius? You don't need to get all dramatic about it!"  
  
  
  
Draco couldn't answer. His vision felt blurry, although his surroundings were all in perfect focus, and his stomach still pounded with a lurching necessity to empty itself of its contents. He wiped the corners of his mouth, shuddering with disgust as he touched his lips.  
  
  
  
In the name of Merlin…what had he done?  
  
  
  
Turning slowly, he faced the girl, her fair hair more apparent now, and her all too familiar face.  
  
  
  
"No it isn't-" he swallowed hard. "-Nacrissa."  
  
  
  
****************************************************  
  
  
  
The route to the library was still long and winding, with that same portrait of some famous, wrinkled, old goblin staring gloomily at passerbys, hung at the left of the entrance. Sirius didn't give the goblin a second glance.  
  
  
  
He had never been one for libraries. Who needed to know stuff that already happened anyway? It's over and done with. Maybe that's why he had such a low grade in History of Magic.  
  
  
  
But now Sirius was searching the shelves for anything that could tell him something.  
  
  
  
Maybe it had been in the air, an ominous foreboding that hung in the corridors and even seeped into the Great Hall. Or the way the doors, the floorboards, virtually everything creaked louder than normal.  
  
  
  
Like something was different about Hogwarts- and it wasn't just those remodeled bathrooms.  
  
  
  
Or perhaps it was the fact that maybe realization was beginning to settle in. The black haired boy's angry green eyes flashed again in Sirius's head. He bit his lip….well of course….why wouldn't he be?  
  
  
  
Sirius pulled out a random, worn, but very heavy book, and settled down to read with a stubborn determination.  
  
  
  
He scanned through the pages, before recognizing that it was an updated version of Hogwarts, A History.  
  
  
  
"Hmph."  
  
  
  
Resting his chin in one hand while the other flipped effortlessly through the pages.  
  
  
  
"The founders….quarrel…split...the impact of the later Goblin wars on Hogwarts, the death of the 20th Headmaster…blah, blah…Oh- hey, it's James!"  
  
  
  
And so it was. His black haired friend zipped around on the broomstick in the picture before landing with a triumphant grin on his face.  
  
  
  
Sirius glanced down at the description.  
  
  
  
"James Potter, Gryffndor and Head Boy, in his final seventh year match against Ravenclaw, broke the school record for career points scored by a Chaser. Scoring 80 points in his last match as part of the Gryffndor house team, Potter beat Reginald Fairfield's previous record from 1879 of 980 points with an astounding accumulated career record of 1,030."  
  
  
  
"Head boy, huh? Didn't think such a bossy, authoritative position would have suited you," grinned Sirius. He then noticed a small asterisk by James's name. A little note in the bottom of the page stated to turn to page 1,496 for more information about the Potters.  
  
  
  
Sirius flipped forward to the directed page.  
  
  
  
There was a picture at the bottom of a small, squishy face peering up though a bundle of blankets, a woman clutched him, cooing at him softly.  
  
  
  
He averted his eyes to the above text:  
  
  
  
"In the following years, Hogwarts witnessed an era of dark times plagued by raids, Muggle torture, and massacres of a group known only as the Death Eaters. This cult was prompted and lead by the teachings of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, or more commonly referred to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You- Know-Who.  
  
  
  
"Although the Dark Lord and his followers posed no real threat to Hogwarts, (he had made it clear that he would never break his oath of allowing the school, his only home, to remain standing), Hogwarts was still at the brink of closing its doors to students permanently to become a base for Aurors when a turning point in wizarding history occurred."  
  
  
  
Sirius paused in his reading upon hearing the sound of the door opening and the swish of robes. His eyes settled on the two sidekicks of…of…the green- eyed boy. The stuck-up girl narrowed her eyes at him before flouncing away with Freckles at her heels. He shook his head before continuing:  
  
  
  
"-on the evening of October 31, 1981, the Dark Lord himself attacked the Potter household. Both Lily and James Potter, Hogwarts graduates of 1978 were killed. But their one-year-old son, Harry Potter, when the killing curse was placed on him miraculously survived.  
  
  
  
"The curse was reflected back onto the Dark lord, although not destroying him completely, but left him powerless…Hogwarts remained a school of witchcraft and wizardry…the boy, the only person to ever survive the killing curse was placed in care of his Muggle relatives…  
  
  
  
"The hiding place of the Potters was given to the Dark Lord by an informant, Sirius Black, a previous friend of the Potters. Peter Pettigrew, another Hogwarts graduate, followed Sirius Black after the murders, and was able to corner him on a street of a small Muggle town.  
  
  
  
"Tragically, Black fired an explosion from his wand, killing 12 muggles, and Pettigrew who died instantly in what would be known as the final massacre of the Dark Lord's era. The only part ever found of Pettigrew was a finger…  
  
  
  
"…Black was tried, convicted, and found guilty on the charge of murder on fourteen accounts, and on November 18th 1981 was sentenced to a life imprisonment in Azbakan….In the aftermath, Hogwarts-"  
  
  
  
Sirius reread the page five times. It wasn't until his sixth when someone started to massage his shoulders that he looked up.  
  
  
  
"You're so tense, Draco," stated Parkinson.  
  
  
  
She rested her chin on his shoulder, peering down at the article.  
  
  
  
"Hogwarts, A History? Eeeew…why are your reading such a dull book?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Come on, it's Double Potions with the Gryffndors and Snape will get annoyed if we're late."  
  
  
  
Numbly, Sirius followed, not bothering to put the heavy book back, and as he exited the library he could still faintly hear a mother's soft words speaking to a little baby.  
  
  
  
As soon as he stepped into the hallways, there was no longer the soothing voice to ameliorate his amounting guilt and disgust. Just the blond's obnoxious prattle and their echoing footsteps were the only sounds left to comfort him.  
  
  
  
Keeping his eyes locked straight ahead of him, he struggled to keep his thoughts there too, not to allow his mind to drift back into the library, and not to think, to question, or to wonder, what he, Sirius Black, was capable of.  
  
  
  
And all he had to look forward to at the end of the winding hallways was a class taught by his most hated enemy.  
  
  
  
~La fin.  
  
  
  
Next chapter: Potions class and etc.  
  
Tada! For anyone who thought the Draco & Nacrissa scene was revolting and had to stop reading the story, I hope it's a comfort that none of that'll happen anymore. It just amused me in a very twisted sort of way to write it.  
  
Yeah both Draco & Sirius are a little slow on the uptake…they'll figure it out who's who by the next chapter…hopefully.  
  
Okay, here's a challenge that I imagine is easy for those intellectuals seeping with vast knowledge: Historically, what is the name Death Eaters related to, (and I presume the name could even be derived from)?  
  
Hint: (KKK= wrongness)  
  
A rank of Lieutenant will be awarded to the intellectual who guesses correctly.  
  
*salutes*  
  
  
  
Salutes go to:  
  
Mickey, Irene, Addicted Reader, Peachyjanie, Twinnie, FeatherQuill, Anya Malfoy, Tara, ramblergirl,  
  
Ginzai, Evie, orla potter, Mayleesa, padfoots girl, teeDee, Keitaro, Jivanna, Kat, Emily, Kellie, Chika, Kaylin, Renaissance, AniMourner, snowdiamond, Princess of Mirrors, Sakura,  
  
and….A-Chan.  
  
Thanks for reviewing, it really made writing this go so much faster, such inspiration and encouragement came from them  
  
Rank of Sergeant to:  
  
A-Chan: For being the first to review  
  
Renaissance: For making me laugh  
  
Orla Potter: For giving me a gold star  
  
FeatherQuill: For writing in all caps  
  
Sakura: For being so enthusiastic  
  
Emily: For giving me some ideas  
  
Mayleesa: Just cuz I think your name is wicked awesome  
  
For those who'd like e-mail updates, just give me an address and request it, and it shall be done.  
  
You have been spared the wrath of the evil, rhyming review poem, but beware if you do not review it will return to taunt you. 


	3. Starring Pupil

A/N: I haven't died off the face of the earth quite yet. I know it's been like…oh…forever…I'm an awful, horrible person, and the world could do without negligent scum like me…blah, blah, blah. But hey, I haven't given up on this yet have I? And neither have you? (You're reading this aren't you?) So kudos for you! And this chapter's longer!  
  
Some specific rankings are at the end of this chapter, my one of a kind way of thanking all you readers. I'd just like to say that all your reviews really made me (sniff) sit down and write this even when I was (sniff) frustrated and wanted to give up. Without your encouragement, your critiques, and your strict demands, this story would probably have gone into the rut. Really.  
  
I'll quit being corny right now.  
  
Oh and thanks to Kaylin and SailorWade who reminded me of the fact that Sirius was thrown into Azbakan without a trial. Some British wizarding justice there! A salute to you!  
  
Disclaimer: I have a new stance on this- I don't own Harry Potter, nor would I like to (Now, have you heard that one before?). I'd poison the characters (Harry, ironically enough is my least favorite character for no apparent reason except than he is), although I'd hire Little Mr:I-See-Dead- People as Harry Potter for the big screen. (Maybe his awful actor has something to do with it).  
  
I don't own those two lines I borrowed from Billy Joel's It's Still Rock and Roll to Me song. I don't like songfics, but it's still fun to take lyrics and make them into dialogue.  
  
I hope you don't find this story angsty. I've never really been one for those stories. (Boo-hoo everyone's been killed off), but Sirius is a little on the depressed in this. I guess I'm trying to say that it might not be that funny, but I tired to lighten the mood up.  
  
  
  
This is to all the mascots of the world who degrade themselves to make others feel better and more confident about themselves. Their willingness to humiliate themselves in front of crowds in the guise of enlarged animals and other 'things' is saluted, especially Dru. Love you, Mighty Moo. Your legacy, and inspiration as a Yak will be applauded forever. Especially the way you could do a somersault in that outfit. They should have an Olympics for you guys.  
  
  
  
Okay-Blah, blah, you're not even reading this stuff anyway so let's get on with the important junk:  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Starring Pupil  
  
  
  
Too skinny to be muscular.  
  
  
  
Too short to be tall.  
  
  
  
Too proud to be understanding.  
  
  
  
Too impatient to be tolerant.  
  
  
  
Sirius had been torn between the joy and the horror of working with Harry Potter in Potions class. But after the silent treatment, being berated with insults, and a few bruised shins later he was neither happy nor horrified…..  
  
  
  
He was annoyed.  
  
  
  
'Too obnoxious to be my best friend's son,' he thought bitterly.  
  
  
  
Harry had taken none of his pleasantries and every polite word had been turned and twisted into an insult. And Sirius was feeling awful enough as it was.  
  
  
  
"Would you pass me the unicorn hair, James?"  
  
  
  
Whoops. Sirius realized his mistake a moment too late.  
  
  
  
"Harry- it's Harry Potter!" snapped the boy, his face reddening at the mention of his father's name. But Sirius's sympathy towards him had been drained by one too many insults.  
  
  
  
"Maybe you should wear a name tag or something- you know, like a little blue and white sticker that says: 'Hello, My Name is Harry Potter' – it'd make it much less confusing."  
  
  
  
Several Slytherins snickered. Harry never received an opportunity to retort because with a sudden swish of a cloak there was a figure looming over him.  
  
  
  
"Ah, Potter, I see again that your incompetence has led you to rely solely on Mr. Malfoy's aid." A look that Sirius thought had only been reserved for the Marauders crossed over Snape's face.  
  
  
  
"3 points from Gryffndor." And with a swish of robes the beadle eyes departed to criticize other 5th years. Sirius just gaped at his now aged rival. Well he wasn't *that* old.  
  
  
  
"Who in their right mind would hire Snape to teach at Hogwarts? And does he bathe his comb in oil?" The words slipped out before Sirius could catch himself, but luckily only Potter Jr. heard.  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
Sirius thought that James would be very disappointed to see his son's green eyes enlarge, his expression betraying any trace of dignity or composure.  
  
  
  
It wasn't until the Freckle King poked at Harry's sides that he snapped out of his bewilderment. Sirius chose to study the black board where Snape had written in his loopy handwriting today's assignment- An essay on Wolfsbane Potion.  
  
  
  
Wolfsbane potion…that reminded him-  
  
  
  
Suddenly Snape swept past him bestowing Sirius such an expression of approval that didn't suit the former Slytherin. Sirius looked down at the ground of the Potions Lab.  
  
  
  
This couldn't possibly be the future. Everything was too mixed up- left was right, forward was backwards- it's just didn't make any sense. How can he have let things go so hay-wire? What had happened?  
  
  
  
None of this was true…just a bad dream…a nightmare. Sirius pinched himself, as was custom to all those who believe they are in a stage of unconsciousness. But nothing happened except his awful pale skin turned red.  
  
  
  
If this was real then the book, Hogwarts, A History had to be wrong.  
  
  
  
How reliable were books anyway? Not very reliable. It must've been a typo- had to have been. The author probably meant to put someone more capable, more fiendish with more hatred for James and Lily, someone like-  
  
  
  
"-but Harry, Padfoot said not to go out at dark!"  
  
  
  
"Ron, you know that's an awful idea- we can't have him prancing around in broad daylight. People are suspicious enough at it is."  
  
  
  
"Harry James Potter!"  
  
  
  
The two boys whirled around to see their little snotty friend taping her foot impatiently.  
  
  
  
"What are you middle naming me for, Hermione?"  
  
  
  
"Don't you even dare think about meeting Padfoot at night! Sneaking out at times like…like…these."  
  
  
  
"Hermione-"  
  
  
  
"The rules aren't meant to be broken!"  
  
  
  
"Even by the likes of Harry Potter?"  
  
  
  
The trio snapped their heads back to see Sirius sitting straight-backed and very self-conscious. Padfoot- how could they have known about Padfoot?  
  
  
  
"Granger, Weasley, I think it would be in your best interests to return to your seats."  
  
  
  
"But Professor, we've finished-"  
  
  
  
"-talking to Potter. Yes I know."  
  
  
  
The two returned to their respective table leaving a very sulky Harry and fearful Sirius.  
  
  
  
Padfoot.  
  
  
  
Could there be another?  
  
  
  
Well, of course!  
  
  
  
Padfoot wasn't a very uncommon nickname. Why, wasn't Remus's fourth cousin twice removed called Padfoot?  
  
  
  
Or was that Webfoot?  
  
  
  
Before Sirius could ponder on the probabilities of similar nicknames any longer Snape dismissed the class. Sirus tried to escape into the hallway, but a voice stopped him short.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
  
  
Sirius cringed, stepping back to let others pass, before turning tentatively around to regard Snape, very tall and intimidating. He probably gave all the 1st years nightmares- he was far worse than Professor Baxter.  
  
  
  
"Is something the matter? Your behavior toady concerned me…it was rather untypical of you not to answer any of the questions." There was genuine sincerity in the statement that was all too stunning.  
  
  
  
"Why do you care?" Sirius betrayed his natural instinct to hex him with a fastening acne spell. Or disco.  
  
  
  
"As head of your house I'll have you know that if there's anything troubling you-" He gestured to his right arm in an absurd movement- "come to me."  
  
  
  
"Right," answered Sirius doubtfully before leaving the Potions lab.  
  
  
  
Go to Snape for help?  
  
  
  
'He'd probably kill me on the spot if I told him the truth.'  
  
  
  
The truth. Suddenly reality was drowning him, overwhelming him, surrounding him.  
  
  
  
As Sirius stepped out in the corridors with the dim lighting of the dungeons exaggerating the foreboding aura, he felt James and Lily die all over again.  
  
  
  
***************************  
  
"Black- late to Potions again? What is your pathetic excuse this time?"  
  
  
  
Draco was startled by a deep, booming voice that greatly contrasted Snape's whisper.  
  
  
  
"Er…" Because I was making out with my mother did not wound like a very good excuse. "…I got a little sidetracked."  
  
  
  
The Potions teacher, a heavyset black man just rolled his eyes. "Right."  
  
  
  
Draco slipped into a seat next to Lil. The Professor paced around the classroom. "As I was saying before Black's little interruption- I was highly disappointed with your Potion term papers." He picked up a heap of parchments and slammed them down on his desk, making all the students jump.  
  
  
  
"You call yourselves 5th years? This-this- was trash- a first year could have done half as well with his eyes closed, you heathens." He stopped abruptly.  
  
  
  
"I don't know what any of you are thinking!" he snapped, pacing around the room. "What's going to happen come June? Let me remind you that you have your O.W.L.s this year." The teacher's voice softened. "You haven't forgotten this have you?"  
  
  
  
Then suddenly he bellowed. "Because as I recall the world-wide passing rate for the O.W.Ls on Potions class is 53%! That means nearly half of you will fail unless you pick up the pace. I don't know what you're doing in your spare time, but slacking off now is not an option."  
  
  
  
His voice softened again. "With the exception of one or two individuals." Someone coughed the name *Snape* - "this class is a disgrace. What type of intellectual individuals are you?" A pause and then- "I know some of you are planning to go to Seventh year and take your Newts," he stated sarcastically. "And let me tell you- it never gets easier. Not in my lifetime."  
  
  
  
With his speech finished, he stomped to the front of the class, and began scribbling on the chalkboard.  
  
  
  
It was at this precise moment that a professionally folded piece of parchment landed on Draco's table, startling him. He glanced around, unsure of who had given it to him. Timidly he unfolded it and gaped at its contents.  
  
  
  
There were no words on it, just an obscure drawing. What was it? If you looked at it on one angle it looked like a pie that was on fire, but then again it could also be a deteriorating ozone layer of the earth, or even a pancake that has been stepped on, with the maple syrup splaying everywhere, or maybe-  
  
  
  
"Now can anyone tell me what constitutes a Polyjuice Potion?"  
  
  
  
Draco forgot the parchment, quickly stuffing it into his robe pocket while an eerie silence vibrated off the walls in the Potions class.  
  
  
  
"Pettigrew, are you conscious?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
  
  
"Then stop that yawning and enlighten me."  
  
  
  
"Sorry, sir, I'm not sure."  
  
  
  
"Not sure? That's negligence, Pettigrew, negligence. Does anyone know? I'm aware that Mr. Snape is not present with us at the moment for some personal reasons."  
  
  
  
Draco noticed the Gryffndors snicker rudely, which the Professor pretended not to notice. Snape? Well he would be here, wouldn't he? Finally, an ally. He could explain things to Snape. Snape had always treated him like a…like a…well not quite a son, but not quite like a brother either…but-  
  
  
  
"Anyone? Shall I give a pop quiz on this right now?"  
  
  
  
Draco immediately jumped to attention and raised his hand automatically like he was wont to doing in Potions class, but instead of having the Professor shine a rare smile, he frowned.  
  
  
  
"Black? A need to relieve yourself again?"  
  
  
  
"Um, no…I'd like to answer the question."  
  
  
  
"Oh?"  
  
  
  
"Polyjuice is made up of lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass, powdered horn of a bicorn, shredded skin of a boomslang, and part of the person you'd like to transform into."  
  
  
  
Draco recoiled at the teacher's astonished expression, not to mention the curious looks all his fellow classmates were giving him.  
  
  
  
"Well-" stuttered the Professor, his dark eyes enlarged in confusion, "-it looks like Mr. Black isn't as incompetent as we previously thought." He straightened his back suddenly. "For the rest of you heathens- copy that down!"  
  
  
  
A rush of quills and parchments followed as the students clambered to get out their supplies out, but his friends just stared at him.  
  
  
  
"Evans! Potter! Petti-" The Professor never finished reciting their names, the four were scribbling down the information hurriedly.  
  
  
  
"Potter?" croaked Draco. The boy sitting directly in front of him glanced back with an eyebrow raised.  
  
  
  
The dark black hair contrasted with light skin was unmistakably Harry's. The round framed glasses, and the lanky form- all that was missing were those green eyes.  
  
  
  
"James Potter?"  
  
  
  
Draco watched as Harry's dad gave him a questioning glance before returning to note-taking.  
  
  
  
"Sirius-"  
  
  
  
Turning to the girl next to him, he half-fell out of his chair from the forest that seemed to engulf- so clearly, brightly, and evidently green.  
  
  
  
Evans  
  
  
  
Lily Evans.  
  
  
  
Harry's mom.  
  
********************************  
  
Sirius could now understand a stalker's point of view. Because…well…following people around was rather fun. In a strange sort of twisted way.  
  
  
  
Sirius had been following Harry and his two companions as they meandered through the halls of Hogwarts, talking in hushed voices.  
  
  
  
Until….  
  
  
  
"AHHH!"  
  
  
  
"Get back!"  
  
  
  
"Oh Merlin!"  
  
  
  
Sirius leaned forward from his hiding place behind a pillar to see the three yelping at the last thing Sirius expected to see.  
  
  
  
A lion.  
  
  
  
Their wands were out defensively, posed to attack at any given moment, but the lion just whimpered: "Please don't hurt me!"  
  
  
  
"A talking lion?"  
  
  
  
Suddenly out of the darkness of the hallways, two faces appeared snorting with laughter at the confused expressions.  
  
  
  
Their hair and face were similar to that of the Freckle King's with specks splattered on every available piece of flesh and hair that looked like it was on fire.  
  
  
  
"Oi, Fred, this has to be one of our most brilliant ideas ever!"  
  
  
  
"I'm not sure, George, I think that Canary Creams were more sensational-"  
  
  
  
"Well this isn't a marketing venture! It's different!"  
  
  
  
"Um, could you two possibly inform us why there's a full grown lion stampeding around Hogwarts?" asked Harry.  
  
  
  
"That talks?" added the Freckle King, eyeing the creature warily.  
  
  
  
Identical grins spread across the faces of the brothers? No, no…twins were more likely.  
  
  
  
"He is to be an attendant at all the Quidditch matches-"  
  
  
  
"-to inspire school spirit-"  
  
  
  
"-and to helps us get a fresh new start-"  
  
  
  
"-seeing as I'm captain and school's spirit is at an all time low-"  
  
  
  
"-and George knows he won't be able to rely solely on his adept leadership skills to lead the team to a winning season, so we had to resort to more drastic measures."  
  
  
  
"Anyway, on behalf of the quidditch team, I'd like to introduce the new Gryffndor mascot, Larry the Lion."  
  
  
  
The Freckle King glanced at the whimpering lion. "That's not exactly the type of name that's going to strike fear into the hearts of opponents, nor be a source of enthusiasm."  
  
  
  
"Okay, okay," said one of the twins, holding his hands up in defeat. "So, it's a work in progress. But you've got to admit that it's a creative idea."  
  
  
  
"To have someone disguised as a lion, jump around, hollering at the top of his lungs is not a creative idea, it's a very idiotic one," stated Hermione. She looked at the pitiful creature. "And what poor housemate have you disguised as a lion?"  
  
  
  
"Neville," stated George. The other twin hit him hard on the head.  
  
  
  
"Ow, Fred!"  
  
  
  
"George, you've already broken the first rule- a mascot never reveals his identity!"  
  
  
  
"What kind of rule is that? And he didn't reveal his identity, I did!"  
  
  
  
Fred cursed under his breath. "Now, we'll have to find someone else to be a mascot." He looked up hopefully at the trio.  
  
  
  
"Ron? Hermione?" The two back away.  
  
  
  
"You're are not transfiguring either of us into a lion!"  
  
  
  
"We didn't transfigure Neville!"  
  
  
  
"Then what sort of spell is it?" asked Hermione.  
  
  
  
"It's a costume actually, but more realistic…with this special charm. When you put it out you really do look like a lion instead of a fluffy overgrown stuffed animal."  
  
  
  
"Oh, and we've been working on a voice box to put it that'll enhance the voice to a ferocious war…which we haven't quite perfected."  
  
  
  
"That has to be the most pathetic lion I've ever seen," stated Harry. "No offense, Neville." He quickly added.  
  
  
  
Ron, the Freckle King, shook his head. "I don't see the point of having a mascot. What would he do exactly?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, the usual to cheers and somersaults, really get the crowd going, insulting the opponents-"  
  
  
  
"But all the Slytherins will pelt him with food-"  
  
  
  
The lion's eyes grew large and it made a choking sound.  
  
  
  
"They will not. They'll be jealous that we thought of having an official mascot first."  
  
  
  
"Have you discussed this with Dumbledore?"  
  
  
  
"Hermione, this is still a work in progress. Our beloved Headmaster shall be informed of our final product, seeing as now we can't use Neville anymore."  
  
  
  
The lion breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
  
  
"But you know, he was getting pretty good. Come on, Neville, show them the cheers that we were practicing."  
  
  
  
The lion shook his head, backing away.  
  
  
  
"Come on, Neville, if you do, we'll take the lock binding off the suit."  
  
  
  
The lion considered the offer and reluctantly gave in.  
  
  
  
"Ready?" called Fred.  
  
  
  
The lion nodded, before roaring in a voice mixed with ferocity and the cracking of a teenage boy: "Let's go Gryffndor! Let's go! (Two claps) Let's go Gryffndor, Let's go! (two claps)"  
  
  
  
"Everywhere we go!" hollered the lion.  
  
  
  
"Everywhere we go!" repeated the twins.  
  
  
  
"People wanna know!"  
  
  
  
"People wanna know!"  
  
  
  
That cheer went on until it reached "We are the Gryffndors! The mighty, mighty Gryffndors!"  
  
  
  
"But everyone already knows we're Gryffndors, Fred," said Ron.  
  
  
  
"Ronniekins, you're missing the point."  
  
  
  
"And we were even trying to get him to form his body into all the letters of 'Gryffndor'- but we're still stuck on 'G'."  
  
  
  
Hermione folded her arms, stepping in front of Neville. "I've had enough! Take this awful curse off Neville. I can't honestly believe you'd take advantage of him like this and would let him make such a fool of himself."  
  
  
  
"Hey! Neville agreed to this didn't you, Neville?"  
  
  
  
The lion nodded sheepishly.  
  
  
  
"What did you bribe him with?"  
  
  
  
"That's none of your business, ickle Ronniekins!"  
  
  
  
"Stop saying that!"  
  
  
  
"Just turn him back, will you!"  
  
  
  
"Fine!"  
  
  
  
With a wave of a wand and some fast spoken Latin words that Sirius couldn't catch, a chubby boy appeared amidst a heap of a furry costume. He stood up quickly, brushing of his clothes. Sirius recognized him as the boy he had run into this morning on the way to breakfast.  
  
  
  
"Well Fred and I have got to find a new mascot now."  
  
  
  
"Too bad, though, Neville, we thought you were doing rather well."  
  
  
  
Neville blushed as the twins picked up the costume and made their way back from the direction they had come from. Neville muttered a quick thank-you, questioned where they were going, and was scared off by their vague answers to retreat after the twins.  
  
  
  
So the trio continued their wanderings. They took lefts and rights around the twisted halls until they stopped at a very familiar statue.  
  
  
  
They couldn't know about the secret passage now, could they?  
  
  
  
Sirius leaned back against the wall of the corridor, watching the trio take out a map.  
  
  
  
"That's MY map!"  
  
  
  
He hadn't counted on saying *that* outloud. Harry, flanked by the redhead and the loud-mouthed girl all drew their wands at once. Sirius didn't bother to take his out defensively, but instead his eyes focused in horror at his and his friends' map.  
  
  
  
"How did you get a hold of it?" he demanded, taking a step forward to snatch back his, Moony's, Padfoot's, and Wormtail's beloved map, but Harry jerked it out of reach.  
  
  
  
"It's Harry's map," stated Hermione, matter of factly.  
  
  
  
"No, it's not!"  
  
  
  
Sirius folded his arms. "It isn't! It's mine, and-" he paused a moment. "Who gave it to you?"  
  
  
  
"Why do you care, Malfoy?" asked Ron through gritted teeth.  
  
  
  
"Just leave," stated Harry, pushing his glasses up back on his nose, a movement so familiar that it caught Sirius off guard.  
  
  
  
He bit his lip until it bled, not caring that the three were no longer glaring at him, but observing him with a mounting curiosity. Sirius stood his ground, allowing a drop of blood to roll down his chin.  
  
  
  
Harry could only gape, his green eyes enlarged, he stated then without lifting his eyes from the red speck on Sirius's chin: "Ron's brothers gave it to me- it- it was my father's." His answer was barely a whisper.  
  
  
  
Suddenly the boy tightened his grip on the wand and the map, narrowing his eyes- looking annoyed at himself for revealing the information. "Leave, Malfoy, now, or I'll-"  
  
  
  
Sirius glanced from the map to Harry to the map to Harry and finally resting on the map. "Or you'll what? Hex me? I'm unarmed." His eyes remained on the map- having his own little staring contest with it.  
  
  
  
The Gryffndor chivalry in Harry stopped him in mid-incantation. The boy in front of him *was* unarmed. His only crime was claiming that the map was his. Which it most definitely wasn't. A smile flickered over Harry's face. He knew how to get Malfoy to admit he was faking his ownership.  
  
  
  
Stepping forward, boldly, Harry thrusted the map towards Sirius, smirking. "If this is yours, how does it work?"  
  
  
  
Sirius lost the starring contest with the map to raise an eyebrow at Harry: "Why? Don't you know?"  
  
  
  
"Of course he does," stomped the girl, glancing down at her watch. She was growing impatient by the millisecond.  
  
  
  
Sirius clasped the map in his hands, ignoring the wands there were still drawn in case he tried anything.  
  
  
  
He held the familiar parchment, hands grasping it uncertainly. If he told them the truth what would they do? They'd kill him, wouldn't they? He had murdered Harry's parents- indirectly, and Pettigrew. And the muggles. Killed them, slaughtered them. Betrayed his friends, betrayed-  
  
  
  
Sirius took out the wand and recited: "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!" tapping the map. He could here their gasps of disbelief.  
  
  
  
"How did you know?" asked an infuriated Ron, gaping at the map as it showed the passageways of Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
Sirius grinned: "Call it a lucky guess."  
  
  
  
"Did you overhear us, you-"  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
Harry, who had been silent all this time snatched the map back. Sirius allowed him to- the damage was already done.  
  
  
  
"Malfoy, I'm just curious-"  
  
  
  
"Curiosity killed the cat," interjected Sirius.  
  
  
  
"But satisfaction brought him back," stated Ron. Sirius only glowered while Hermione and Harry looked annoyed.  
  
  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
  
  
Sirius studied Harry, at his sincerity in the question, at his round framed glasses where Sirius could see his own reflection in them, his own frightening paleness.  
  
  
  
"I didn't do it, I swear."  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
  
"I didn't-"  
  
  
  
"Didn't do what?"  
  
  
  
"You've got to believe me!"  
  
  
  
"Believe what?"  
  
  
  
"It's the truth I tell you!"  
  
  
  
"I think Malfoy has officially snapped."  
  
  
  
Harry nodded in agreement with Freckles's acute observation. Sirius didn't care.  
  
  
  
"It wasn't my fault, Harry, I'd never hurt your parents- never, ever!"  
  
  
  
"What do my parents have to with anything?"  
  
  
  
"Everything" sniffed Sirius. "They have everything to do with it." The three watched the blond lean his back against the wall before slumping down to his ground, tucking his chin to his knees in a very undignified position. But Sirius was past caring.  
  
  
  
"I didn't kill them," he whispered. "I don't care what you think, you've go to understand that- that- it would never happen-"  
  
  
  
Harry shot a glance at his companions who just shrugged their shoulders. He glanced down at Malfoy. "Look-"  
  
  
  
"James is- was my best friend, and Lily was my friend too. You can't just go round-"  
  
  
  
Sirius lifted his face to see the girl clasp a hand over her mouth in astonishment. To see the dumbfounded gaze of the tall boy to the blank expression plastered across Harry's face.  
  
  
  
He deserved to know, didn't he?  
  
  
  
"You're not Malfoy…are you?" His silence seemed to be an enough of an answer for them.  
  
  
  
"Who…who are you?" asked the girl, breathless, wide-eyed, surveying him again, in a meticulous manner that made Sirius cringe.  
  
  
  
Traitor seemed like the best answer, now?  
  
  
  
A low traitor, the scum of the earth, the disgrace of Gryffndor, of Hogwarts….of the Marauders.  
  
  
  
He took a deep breath before standing up. He cleared his throat, and then stated in the drawling voice he now possessed: "My name is Sirius Black, or Padfoot, and I helped make that map."  
  
  
  
The girl was shaking now. Harry's blank expression was unfaltering. It was only the redhead who could speak.  
  
  
  
"If you're Padfoot, then who are Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail, huh?"  
  
  
  
"Wormtail's my friend, Peter, and Moony's my friend Remus, and Prongs….is…James."  
  
  
  
"But how? You can't…- Malfoy?"  
  
  
  
"My name is Sirius Black" he repeated before closing his eyes, awaiting the trio to hex him, to kill him. To-  
  
  
  
"Sirius, what happened to you? Are you okay? How did you get into Malfoy's body? And what's all this bloody nonsense about you being a murderer?"  
  
  
  
Sirius peeked his eyes open. "Huh?" He didn't find three infuriated faces, but rather friendly ones, a little confused maybe, but friendly, nevertheless.  
  
  
  
"Padfoot, what mess have you gotten yourself into now?" asked Harry, with a trace of a grin on his face. Sirius could hear Ron cluck his tongue.  
  
  
  
"Er…a big one?"  
  
*************************************  
  
This couldn't be happening. Harry Potter's parents. Harry bloody Potter.  
  
  
  
Draco glanced at his companions, talking over dinner. Well, actually, they were one short. The shaggy, pale looking one had gone off somewhere apparently. The paunchy boy mumbled something about not being hungry (before grabbing a few dinner rolls and helping himself to the 'Hogwarts' Friday Surprise'- whatever *that* was).  
  
  
  
"What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?" asked Potter the Senior, defensively.  
  
  
  
"Can't you tell? Your collar's too wide-" joked the other boy, Pettigrew before leaving the Great Hall with his mouth full of half-chewed dinner roll, while shoving more into his bag.  
  
  
  
"How about a pair of pink sidewinders and a bright orange pair of pants?"  
  
  
  
"Shut-up, Lily."  
  
  
  
"So, would you at least come to Hogsmeade with me to-"  
  
  
  
James shook his head. "I don't care if you think I need new robes, you know I can't give you any fashion advice, ask Anita or what's-her-face…that girl with the French braid who's always chewing gum-"  
  
  
  
"But I want a male opinion!" whined the redhead, crossing her arms firmly. She glanced at Draco and her face brightened suddenly remembering that he was there. "So, Sirius, do you have any plans for tomorrow?"  
  
  
  
Draco nearly choked on the 'Hogwarts's Friday Surprise'. "Er…"  
  
  
  
But Harry's dad bailed him out.  
  
  
  
"There's no way you're roping Sirius into this. He and I have plans for tomorrow."  
  
  
  
"We do?"  
  
  
  
"Why can't I come? You two always go off with Peter and-"  
  
  
  
"It's guy stuff…trust me."  
  
  
  
"Guy stuff my ass," she hissed under her breath, glaring at them before sliding down the table to talk to some gossiping girls. Potter Sr. just rolled her eyes.  
  
  
  
"Really. You'd think she'd realize by now that maybe there's a *real* reason we don't invite her along."  
  
  
  
Real reason, huh? Draco bit back the urge to ask exactly what this real reason was until his tongue hurt.  
  
  
  
Draco looked back and forth between Harry's parents who were each ignoring the other and rather successfully. Were they…together now? Draco watched Lily who was pretending to be interested in some 'quidditch hottie' the girls were discussing.  
  
  
  
She threw in a few nods and a couple 'I know… he really is' lines, but spent most of her time poking at the Hogwarts's Friday Surprise with her fork.  
  
  
  
She didn't look at all like Potter, noted Draco. Potter had his father's build, bad hair, skin, and poor eyesight.  
  
  
  
Just the green eyes.  
  
  
  
And she had red hair…not quite like the Weasel's, but still it was red…not some 'strawberry blond' look-alike shade, but really red.  
  
  
  
Red hair and green eyes. Like a Christmas ornament.  
  
  
  
"…Sirius, we should go soon." Draco snapped his attention to the boy across from him, sitting straight in his chair, preparing to be reprimanded for looking at his future wife.  
  
  
  
"I'll grab the cloak and the map."  
  
  
  
So…they were probably, no-…most definitely not together at the current time. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He'd be puking everywhere if he'd have to tolerate Harry's parents' mushy flirting, and courtship.  
  
  
  
"Wormtail said he'd get the provisions from the House Elfs before he went to meet Moony."  
  
  
  
Moony? Wormtail?  
  
  
  
Draco just nodded, faking comprehension.  
  
  
  
"Meet me in front of the library in about ten minutes. It'll be less suspicious if we don't leave together."  
  
  
  
"Of course."  
  
  
  
James walked out of the Great Hall briskly and Draco was left alone to nibble off dinner rolls. He'd long ago given up on the Surprise.  
  
  
  
It was the first time he had an opportunity to really get a breather and think. Think about what was happening.  
  
  
  
He had somehow been transported back in time into the body of Sirius Black…but where was the real Black then? In the future? In *his* body?  
  
  
  
It was an all too horrifying thought.  
  
  
  
And how did this happen in the first place? He couldn't remember the events of the night before. He had gone to bed in the present in his own dorms only to wake-up in someone else's life. Had there been a potion administered too him?  
  
  
  
And who'd want to send him to the past anyway? What kind of purpose would he have on being here?  
  
  
  
Now…he couldn't forget Narcissa and Sirius. They had been together and seriously too, thought Draco, grimacing at the thought. Well as serious as any 15 year-old couple could be. Children's names- right.  
  
  
  
Sirius Jr. was an awful sounding name.  
  
  
  
Draco decided then it was time to meet Potter for wherever it was they needed to go. He stood up, Lily glowered at him as he retreated to the Great Hall. He just shrugged his shoulders. She really needed some gal- pals.  
  
  
  
Making his way down to the library, Draco couldn't help but wonder if there was a way out of this mess. It had been a recurring thought in the back of his mind, but now it seemed to be a looming truth hanging over the horizon.  
  
  
  
What if he could never go back? What if he was stuck in someone else's life? What if he was destinted to live the same fate as Black- to go to Azbakan? Did someone out there want him to end up in a wizard prison?  
  
  
  
Draco had reached the library and leaned against the stone wall, tapping his left heel lightly against it, anxiety getting the better of him.  
  
  
  
He needed to talk to someone about this. He knew Pettigrew, Potter Sr, Evans, and what's-his-face-shaggy-haired-boy, would completely flip out if they found their littler traitor of a friend was missing. Narcissa would too. Draco shuddered at the thought.  
  
  
  
Dumbledore? Draco, straightened himself suddenly. Only if he couldn't figure out any way at all would he dare go to the Headmaster for help. He could do this on his own, without some Gryffndor favoring wizard to bail him out.  
  
  
  
And there was also Snape. He'd talk to him tomorrow hopefully. Visit him at the Hospital Wing. Good. A plan.  
  
  
  
Wait. Draco slapped himself inwardly, (if that was possible). His parental unit- daddy dearest. Was he at Hogwarts? Had he graduated already? He could find that out too come the morning. Or ask one of these Gryffndors.  
  
  
  
Oh…this plan was getting better and better.  
  
  
  
"C'mon, Sirius."  
  
  
  
Draco glanced up in time to see a body appear out of nowhere. He gaped. An invisibility cloak. How did Potter get an Invisibility cloak?  
  
  
  
"Let's go!" Potter Sr. grabbed his arm, and the cloak was shoved on top of him. Sirius watched the boy pull out a map that had funny lines on it. He bit his lip back to keep himself from inquiring about it.  
  
  
  
They rushed down the hallways and outside until they came to the Whomping Willow.  
  
  
  
But it was no longer…how would you say…Whomping?  
  
  
  
"Wormtail already pushed the button."  
  
  
  
"Uh, okay."  
  
  
  
Draco scurried inside the tree after Potter Sr.  
  
  
  
A secret passage?  
  
  
  
Of course!  
  
  
  
Draco's mind was working furiously. An Invisibility cloak, a map of…Hogwarts, secret passages…was this how Harry-  
  
  
  
Harry's father was sprinting with excitement down the passage, the cloak had been removed and Draco was panting to keep up.  
  
  
  
"Slow down, will you?"  
  
  
  
"Come on!"  
  
  
  
Suddenly they reached a door. His companion stopped short, pulling out his wand quickly and before Draco knew what was happening there was no longer Harry's dad next to him.  
  
  
  
There was this deer thingy with antlers. An illegal transfiguration? Underage transfiguration? A smile curled Draco's lips…oh he could so bust them for this lack of respect for the law. He'd get expelled from Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
The deer thing pawed impatiently, shaking his head in a rapid movement before opening the door. Draco just followed after him.  
  
  
  
He didn't realize his mistake until it was too late.  
  
  
  
He was in the Shrieking Shack. But he and this animal weren't the only ones.  
  
  
  
Draco dived out of the way to miss the pounce of a more than half-grown werewolf. It slammed the door shut, and in the movement his wand flew out of his cloak pocket to the other side of the room.  
  
  
  
Panting, Draco stood up. A werewolf, no, no, no- Professor Lupin- why hadn't he recognized him?  
  
  
  
Potter Sr. was making furious motions at him and faintly Draco heard a rat squeak. What was this? A local animal cult at the Shrieking Shack?  
  
  
  
A growl brought Draco back to reality. The werewolf was closing in and Draco was unarmed. No wand, no-  
  
  
  
The reindeer creature charged at the werewolf suddenly, throwing it off guard, and the rat bit at his feet suddenly.  
  
  
  
The wolf howled with anger before with a quick movement slash a nasty scar into the flesh of the Potter Sr, slamming him into the wall along with the rat.  
  
  
  
And then it turned around, eyes seizing his prey. Draco looked around helplessly. There was no escape. No wand, nowhere to run.  
  
  
  
He'd die right then and there. And then there would be no Sirius Black. Potter'd have his parents alive and well. He'd woken up in someone's life and it had taken less than 12 hours for him to get himself killed in someone else's life. That had to be some sort of record.  
  
  
  
Draco backed away, hands held out in defeat. "Please…don't hurt me." One slow step at a time, backing up until he could feel his body press against the cold stone of the wall.  
  
  
  
The werewolf just snarled, barring its teeth, while it ventured a step closer. It lowered its body, ready to pounce and Draco shut his eyes, cringing as he heard the creature's paws leave the ground in its leap towards him.  
  
  
  
~La fin.  
  
Next Chapter Preview: Some misunderstandings, miscommunications, and a double Sirius meeting… And a scar that has nothing to do with Harry's. What's the world coming to?  
  
I'm not sure when the Marauders figured out the Animangi stuff, but even if it wasn't until their 7th or 6th year I want to keep it like this cause it works way better. And if it's wrong…it's wrong. My apologizes. I lent my 3rd book to someone so *shrugs* I guess I'm not looking it up.  
  
I'm a Private giving reviewers rankings higher than me- why? Because I'm Private I, that's why! (And that rhymes!)  
  
Sergeant ranking to-  
  
~firestorm- For actually made me get off my lazy ass and update this story.  
  
~Twinnie- For appreciating my poem.  
  
~Robin G. – For appreciating my dedication.  
  
~Usako3000- For your vast knowledge of Greek mythology  
  
~The phantom- For being THE PHANTOM  
  
~Urania- For giving me confidence  
  
  
  
Lieutenant ranking to-  
  
~FeatherQuill- For giving me all these stars that I don't know what to do with. (I'll read your stories ASAP, promise).  
  
~Semmel- An intellectual who got the question right.  
  
There is a name of a political activist group that used to exist in the South United States post-Civil War. It wasn't as radical in its actions as the KKK, but it's name was the Fire Eaters. A history class was spent whether or not JKR has heard about this group and took the name from it. Fire Eaters? Death Eaters? Mere coincidence? Or not? *Twilight Zone music plays in background*  
  
A salute to everyone who read and reviewed. You've once again been spared the wrath of the rhyming review poem because I'm too lazy to think about one. And even if you're the type of person who reads and doesn't review, I still salute you. Why? Cause I have nothing better to do. j/k You're still kewl.  
  
*salutes* 


End file.
